by Ian Chapman
‘I’m Trent,’ I said.
Casper didn’t react. I thought about repeating it, but then he looked at me, one eyebrow raising.
‘I just want to chat. Ask a few questions.’
He nodded but lowered his head again.
‘Can he sit?’ I said to one of the men, the fella staring into space.
The other one answered for him. ‘We were told to keep him standing.’
‘He needs to sit. So I can quiz him.’
He glanced at his companion. For a second they seemed to communicate with minor facial expressions. ‘I suppose so,’ he said.
They nudged Casper forward and he stumbled into the chair, resting his elbows on the table, sighing. I sat opposite, leaning back in my seat. The two men were rigid behind him, as if something was going to happen.
‘You two can go. I’m fine here.’
The same guard replied as before. ‘We were told to stay.’
‘At least go over to the wall. Give us some space.’
Again they looked at one another, did that mind-reading thing. After a moment they moved towards the door and stood each side of it.
‘Well, Casper,’ I said in a loud voice. ‘I guess you know what this is about.’
His head was in his hands and he leant forward.
‘I’m just here to chat. Ask questions.’
He looked up. ‘Is that so?’ His voice was sharp, gruff.
‘Yes, questions.’ I leant forward and wrote BECKY on the piece of paper.
This got him. He straightened up, grinned at this, a mean smile, as he eyed me. Under Becky’s name I wrote SHE’S IN TOWN. SAFE.
I raised my voice. ‘I need to know where you came from; why are you here; who you work for?’
‘Oh yeah?’
There was one last test for him. And her. I wrote: MOLE.
He smiled and tapped his chest, beside his left nipple. Then he sat back, arms crossed. Smug.
‘So,’ I said, louder. ‘What brought you here?’
‘Just passing through.’
‘Passing through to where?’ I had to get something from him. Something to give Nico. Keep him off my back.
‘Somewhere else.’
‘We need to know where you were going; where you came from?’
‘Oh?’ He sighed and fidgeted but said no more.
‘What about your vehicle? The tank?’
‘Tank?’ Then nothing.
‘Tell me how you got it; how it works?’
‘Seriously?’
I put my elbows on the table. So did he. Now we were face to face, up close. ‘If you don’t tell me something,’ I said, ‘then they’ll send in someone else. They’ll beat it out of you.’
We eyeballed each other for a moment.
‘Why did you come through town. Shoot the place up.’
‘Didn’t mean to.’
‘Go on.’
He sighed. ‘I was meant to go round but took the wrong road. Then people started shooting so I shot back…’
‘And where were you going?’
He sat back again, his lips tight and brow furrowed. The arms were crossed on his chest and he took a deep breath. For a minute we sat and looked at each other, him silent but lips moving as he ground he teeth.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘You’re stuck here. Either you talk to me or Nico will start hurting you.’
He tilted his head to one side but said nothing.
‘We know a little about the tank.’
He put his hands on the table, licked his lips. ‘The Eblis…’
Then there was a sound from the door. It unlocked and opened.
Will came in. ‘We’re needed on a job. Urgent.’
I crossed out everything I’d written on the piece of paper then added EBLIS -THE TANK and YORKSHIRE: something I’d guessed by the route he had come into town.
Casper looked up at me, shrugged, raised both eyebrows. I turned and followed Will out. As the door was shutting Casper watched me, the two guards now back at his side.
Maybe he was Becky’s brother. A lot of her story fitted. He wasn’t someone I’d warmed to. Not a man I’d trust.
Will shuffled off ahead of me. ‘This is a big one,’ he said. ‘We’ve got ring leaders. We’ve got the main troublemakers in the town.’
CHAPTER TEN
Harsh lesson
IT WAS SHORT WALK from Central to where Nico had the lads. They were at the Seaview Hotel, once grand but now a mess like most of the South Side. Will took me straight in, through the bust doors and up onto the first floor. The carpets were stained and ripped, much of the wooden panelling ripped off the wall. He led me on towards a room at the end where the door was open. It was a double bedroom with only a settee and bed, filthy bedding knotted up on it. The bay window looked across the town, though the glass was so dirty it was hard to see much. It smelled of sweat and piss. Nico paced up and down in front of three teenage boys sitting on the settee. They were scruffy. Thin. Gregg stood behind them and Will joined him, leaning against a busted table. I stood away from them.
‘See, the thing is,’ said Nico. ‘You crossed the line.’
The lads looked at each other and frowned. The one in the middle sat upright. ‘It was a misunderstanding,’ he said. His voice wavered as he spoke.
Nico smiled and walked back and forward, playing with his shades. ‘Oh, it was that, it really was —’
‘We won’t do it again.’
Nico laughed, a short bark that made them on their seats. He slid his shades on and pointed at each of them in turn. ‘This has gone too far, too fucking far.’ He nodded to Will who came round and joined him. Will felt around in his dungarees. He fumbled in his pocket for what felt like an age before he pulled out a length of cord. He wrapped it around one hand and pulled on it with the other.
Nico shook his head. ‘We need to teach you a lesson. Set an example.’
The lads didn’t move. They were all transfixed by the cord in Will’s hands.
‘Nico,’ I said.
Nico stopped pacing. He turned towards me and raised his right hand. His lips were tight and eyes fixed on me. That was a look that told me to back off. Leave it. Will and Gregg stared at me as well. Gregg tapped a pocket on his dungarees. There was a bulge in it the size of a pistol, one he’d love to pull out and jam in my face. Take me out and remove a competitor from the Round Up hierarchy.
I stepped backwards, away from them all. I wasn’t needed here and didn’t want to be part of it. I’d ease myself into the passageway and get the fuck away.
Nico started to pace again. He nodded to Will who swung the cord from one hand, left and right. The lads watched but didn’t move. Will moved up to the settee and they shrunk back. The cord jumped around in his hand above them. Then he flicked it towards Gregg behind the settee. Gregg grabbed it, wrapped it around one hand then the other. He dropped it onto the lad in front of him, over his head. His neck.
Gregg pulled hard on it. Strangled him.
I stepped forward but Will was in front of me. He had his knife out and blocked my way.
The cord bit into the lad’s neck, lifting him up as he grasped hold of it, tugged at it. The other two stared at him, shuffled in their seats but didn’t help. Their faces were white. Eyes wide. Gregg leant back, forearms straining as he hauled the lad up. His body lifted from the seat, his face contorted as the cord cut into his neck. He clawed at his throat and kicked his feet.
‘You’ve made your point,’ I said.
Nico laughed. ‘Finish him.’
Will had half turned to watch the strangulation. He grinned as the lad’s eyes swelled up.
I took my chance and punched Will, a crack to the jaw that set him off balance, out of my way. I sprung past him and went over to Gregg, pulling at his arm. As I struggled with Gregg Nico came over. I had hold of Gregg’s hand and undid his fingers but he kept the pressure on. Nico went for me but I elbowed him, knocked some of the wind out of him and I grabbed at Gregg again. I
hauled the cord, yanked hard slid one end out of his grip. Released the lad. Gregg staggered back as it came free.
Will stood in front of the settee. ‘Looks like you were too late.’
The lad was slumped on the seat, his head to one side and his tongue protruding. Eyes shut.
Gregg laughed and slid the rope into his dungarees.
Nico was round the front again. He pointed at the other two. ‘This is what happens. This is a lesson. A harsh lesson in reality.’
They didn’t move. Didn’t look at the body slumped beside them. The dead body of their friend.
‘If you cross the line, this is the result.’
Will went over and opened the door. Nico went out followed by Gregg, like they’d rehearsed this.
‘Come on,’ Will said to me.
I didn’t move. The two surviving lads stared at the floor. The body lay slumped beside them.
Will came over jabbed towards me with his knife. ‘Get out.’
‘What about him?’
‘Leave him.’
I moved towards the dead body but Will thrust out at me and I had to step aside to miss being hit.
‘I’m not kidding,’ he said. ‘Leave him. Or join him.’
I looked into Will’s eyes. He meant it. Him and Gregg would be happy to get rid of me. Nico might have plans for me but they weren’t interested.
So I went out into the corridor. Will shut the door and with a nod from Nico stood close to me. Gregg went to the other side. They hemmed me in as Nico came up, jabbed me in the chest. ‘Very disappointing. Very fucking disappointing, Trent.’
‘There was no need.’.
‘Things are tough. Out there in the world.’ He waved his hand around, sweeping it in a great arc. ‘The other night showed us that. We need to protect ourselves. Sort things out here then expand. Build our defences.’
‘How will this help?’ I tapped the door. Pointed back towards the dead lad.
‘See, Trent, you don’t understand. You don’t see the big picture. There’s no time for sentimentality. Bad people have to be wiped out.’
From the room I could hear sobbing.
Nico adjusted his shirt. He took a breath then punched me in the stomach. It took all of the air out of me. Folded me up.
Then he grabbed my collar. ‘Things are changin’ Trent. We’ve been slack. We need to step things up. Step, step, step!’ He took another breath and exhaled slowly. ‘But, you have a role. You’re no good at this. The tough stuff. It’s the other bits you’re useful for. Like our man in the cell…’ He eased his grip on me. ‘Any luck, Trent? Any information? Anything you can tell us, hmm?’
Will had his knife out again. This was going the wrong way. I was going to end up like that lad in there.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He said where he’d come from…’
Nico smiled. ‘Really? He talked?’
‘Yeah.’
‘This for real?’
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
I pulled out the piece of paper.
Nico read it. ‘Yorkshire? Where in Yorkshire?’
‘Just south of York.’ It was the first place that sprung into my mind.
He jabbed the paper ‘And this Eblis? What’s that?’
‘The tank’s name. The model.’
Nico stepped back and patted me on the cheek. ‘Well, that’s something. That is something.’ He nodded to Will and Gregg moved away from me as well. ‘Don’t think you’re off the hook, Trent. But this is something. A reprieve.’ He brandished the piece of paper and led them off.
As they disappeared I thought about going back into the room, saying something, helping with the body. Instead I hung around in the hallway for several minutes. Then I left the hotel and went straight across town.
I stopped at Harbour Bridge and held onto the metalwork where the steel had been twisted by the tank. For some time I stared down into the River Farle, as the filthy water rolled past. Maybe I should have done more. Tried harder to save the lad. Stayed and helped the other two. Not lied about what Casper had said.
Maybe. Maybe not.
I carried on across the bridge and up the pathway. Made my way to High Town. I didn’t trust Becky but at the moment she seemed to be the only person I wanted to talk to.
The bar of the Bay Hotel was quiet with a couple of fellas in their sixties drinking beer and some drunk woman half slumped over a table. There was no sign of Becky.
I took the same seat and ordered a whisky. Stared out at the town and the sea. From here it looked so peaceful. But I really needed to get away. The tank arriving had changed Round Up, made it worse. They’d gone from bullies to killers.
For some time I sat there and sipped the whisky, as piano music played on the sound system and the waiters flitted around. I thought about Casper, that nasty look on his face. The way he sneered at me. I finished the drink and had another, looking out across Faeston in the midday sun.
I moved to a table by the window and ordered a beer, just to pace myself.
It was sometime later that Becky came in. By then there were a few more drinkers. Men in worn suits. Women in shabby blouses. Becky looked good again. She was in a long dress, purple with tie-dye patterns. Slim fitting. Even though I was wary of her I couldn’t ignore how great she looked. I watched how she moved, how her clothes fitted her body and how her hair fell onto her shoulders.
This was the time to play it cool, see what she had to offer, find out what her and Casper were really about. She was an enemy of Round Up but that didn’t make her my friend.
She took the seat opposite, pulled it up close. ’Did you see him?’ No small talk. No asking how I was or what was going on.
‘Yeah, I saw him.’
‘Is he okay?’
‘Oh, he’s fine. Fellas like him are always fine.’
She waved to the waiter. He came over and she ordered a gin. Even though she spoke to him she eyed me the whole time. Once he’d gone she moved closer. ‘He’s all right? Casper?’
‘Like I said, he’s fine.’
She smiled at this but her eyes were hard, serious. The waiter brought her drink over and asked if I wanted anything else. I said I was fine and he left.
Becky took a drink and stared out of the window. She pointed towards the door that led out to the garden. ‘Let’s sit outside, again. It’s a nice afternoon.’
‘Let’s not.’ I wasn’t in the mood to play along.
‘Did he say much?’
‘Bits.’
She took a drink, looked away from me. ‘But he is okay?’
‘We’ve covered that.’
‘What’ll they do to him?’
This was it, crunch time. I could soften it for her. But it was best she knew how it really was. ‘They’ll work him over. Find out everything he knows. They won’t stop until they got his full history. Where he’s from; going to. How to get into the tank…’
She took another drink, finished it off. For a few seconds she sat there with the empty glass in her hand turning it around, staring into it.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘That’s how they work.’
She leant one hand on the table. The other she slid underneath, onto my knee. Rested it there. ‘You’ve got to help, Trent, get him out of there.’
‘Get him out?’ This was new. But I should have spotted it.
‘You’ve got to help.’
‘I can’t. Sorry.’
‘It’s not just about Casper. If they get the Eblis, you know what they’ll do.’
‘I know.’
‘We need to get Casper free. And take the Eblis.’
‘I understand. But I can’t help.’ I stood up, ready to go. This was too much. It was all risk for me and no reward.
Becky took my hand. ‘Wait —’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. I understand.’ She stood and joined me. ‘I want to thank you for your help. I know you've taken a risk doing this.’ She pulled out a wad of cash. �
�Let me treat you.’
‘I don’t want your money.’
‘Let’s take a walk. Go to some bars. Have fun.’
I was about to argue, point out I had stuff to do. Instead I nodded. Said nothing. A few drinks with an attractive woman wasn’t such a bad thing to do. I’d helped her out and she owed me. The alternative was an evening alone in my flat. Or with Sophie.
We went through the hotel, onto St Cuthbert’s Terrace.
‘So,’ she said. ‘Where do you suggest?’
‘I know a few places.’ I led her down the High Town Walkway, a paved road the Committee had just put in when I’d arrived eighteen months ago, something they were really proud of. It was old bricks set in a zig-zag pattern with a couple of mosaics. We passed one of a sea monster.
Even though it was only early evening candles were lit at some of the bars. Becky strode alongside me slowly, her head tilted back, dress tight on her body. She moved well and was in good shape. I didn’t have to trust her to find her sexy.
Music came up the road and I let it draw me towards The Web Club, one of my favourites when I first arrived in town. A couple at the doorway were locked in an embrace, hands all over each other as they stood below the metal spider’s web on the wall. The music from inside was loud, energetic: trumpets and saxophones. Drums.
‘Fancy this?’ I said.
‘Sounds good.’
I let Becky go ahead and followed her into the passageway and onto the narrow staircase, her legs just in front of me. As we twisted our way up I could see the muscles in her thighs working under her dress. She gave off the smell of some flower, something delicate.
At the top of the stairs we came to the main bar. It was a long room with tables set out in the middle and alcoves along one side. The walls were bare brick covered with posters of musicians. At the far end a band played an old jazz song. I led her to one of the alcoves.
As we slid in a waiter came over and took our orders. I asked for a large whisky and she had a small beer.
She leant over to me. ‘This is quite some place.’
‘Found it shortly after I arrived in town.’
‘One of your haunts?’
‘Not so much now.’ Largely because Sophie didn’t like the music or the decor. Or the drinks or High Town.
